


The Heretic

by MarieRathaway



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: ALL THE GAY, Adult Damian Wayne, Batboys, Bruce is a brooding mess, Damian Wayne is a Little Shit, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick is a sweetheart, Gay, How it should have been, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, M/M, Mind Control, Poor Damian, Possible smut, Protective Dick Grayson, Superboys, Tim is sassy, everyone gets mind fucked
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:55:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27475366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieRathaway/pseuds/MarieRathaway
Summary: Heretic was designed to be the perfect weapon. And he was, but what he wanted was to be a person. He wanted to be loved by his mother. So, naturally, he steals the memories of the man he was cloned from: Damian Wayne. But once he has said memories, he no longer cares about his mother's affection.He only cares about Dick Grayson.Because Dick is the love of Damian's life, so now he is the love of his life.And he will stop at nothing to get him.Based on Batman: Bad Blood (How it should have gone)
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson/Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson/Heretic (DCU), Heretic/Nightwing, Roman Sionis/Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Comments: 30
Kudos: 76





	1. The Heretic

**Author's Note:**

> Well, not gonna lie, folks. This is gonna be a long'n. If you're looking for a quick one shot get out now. I've had this prompt in my head for a couple years, and I'm just now getting it down on the digital paper. I will try to post as regularly as I can, because lord knows I hate those Fics where you read fifteen chapters and then the person stops so you never find out how it ends.  
> I don't actually expect that anyone will read this anyway

Heretic was designed to be perfect. He was perfect. But something was missing. He was missing the experience of growing up, of learning about the world, of being... human. He wanted to be more than just an empty shell made to be a human weapon.

And so, he began to make a plan.

One week later, he was forcing mad hatter against a wall and put on his most intimidating face.

“H-heretic! What are you doing?!” The Hatter said fearfully.

Heretic scowled. “Listen carefully, Hatter, because I’ll only say this once,” Heretic leaned in close to whisper in his ear. “You’re gonna help me with something. Something Talia can’t know about. If you were to tell her, I will make you wish you were never born. Do you understand?” The Hatter nodded, wide eyed. “Good. Now here’s what you’re going to do...”

Damian was in the batcave alone. His stupid father wanted him confined to the stupid cave because he had a little injury.

“When is father going to learn that I can handle pain? That I am tougher than I look?” He mused to himself.

As he threw two shurikins at the dummy in front of him (hitting exactly where he was aiming, of course), he felt a foreboding air around him. It was almost imperceptible, but he could hear a quiet thumping above him.

He wasn’t alone.

His brain started overloading. Who was it? Was it a friend of his father’s? Was it an enemy? If it was, how the hell did they find the batcave? Where was the intruder? What was their goal?

He shook his head, forcing the questions out of his mind. All he knew was there was someone in the batcave with him, and he was alone. But he knew he was more than enough to take on any villain. He smirked. Whoever it was, they were in for a world of hurt.

Suddenly, he heard a thump on the north side of the cave. He turned to survey the area, reaching for his bo staff. He heard a sharp whistling behind him, but before he could even turn around, he felt a sharp pain in his neck.

He reached around and found a dart in his neck. He pulled it out and saw the bluish liquid in the object. It didn’t look like poison.

He dropped the dart and grabbed his bo staff, preparing for any threat that may come his way.

“I know you’re there,” he said as confidently as he could “come out and face me you coward!”

“Me? A coward?” A deep gravely voice came out of the darkness “hardly.”

Damian’s vision was beginning to blur, and he was finding it hard to concentrate, his head feeling foggy and distant.

Suddenly, a large figure appeared out of the darkness. He was broad, muscular, and tall. He was wearing a mask, a mask that Damian did not recognize.

He held his bo staff up and prepared to fight, but almost immediately he fell over, his head too fogged up to stand, but he didn’t hit the floor. He looked up to see that the strange man had caught him.

“Who... who are you?” Damian asked, barely able to put together a sentence.

“Isn’t it obvious?” The man said haughtily. He paused and took his mask off. He had a squared jaw and hard eyes, and something about his almost looked familiar...

The man looked Damian in the eye, his sharp stare making a chill go down Damian’s back.

“I’m you.”

And Damian’s vision went black

When Damian woke, he found that he was hanging upside down in s straightjacket with wires taped all around his head. He looked around the dark room, trying to find anything that would give him a clue as to where he was.

After about a minute, someone walked into the room. He recognized the top hat he wore immediately. It was mad hatter.

The Hatter walked towards Damian, and crouched down to fiddle with some of the wires.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Damian hissed through his teeth.

Hatter looked at him with pity and sighed. “Something I’d rather not do. But I don’t exactly have a choice.”

Damian looked behind the Hatter to see a large dark figure standing in the shadows. It was the same man who had faced him in the cave.

“Is everything ready, Hatter?” The man asked

The Hatter sighed and walked away to sit in a chair, the wires now going into his top hat. “Yes, yes. Now let’s get this over with,” the man walked from the shadows to sit in a chair much like the hatters, some wires on his head as well. “This might sting a bit.” The Hatter said.

He pressed a button, and Damian felt a searing pain in his head, it felt as if he was getting ripped apart. Suddenly, he began to see his memories playing across his mind as if he were at the cinema. They started at his very first memory, then continued, Damian watching as his whole life was being played before him. He was minutely aware of the sound of two voices screaming, and it took him a moment to recognize the first as his. His memories began to speed up as he entered his first growth spurt. Faster and faster they went, they began to blur, going too fast to process, and then white.

And he was unconscious once more.

Heretic opened his eyes, and was surprised to see that he was in his makeshift room at the base. Last he remembered, he had been in the room with Hatter and the brat.

Then a wave of pain hit him like a train. His head felt full to the point of bursting. He resisted the urge to scream at the pain, instead just letting out a groan. He laid back down, and after what felt like an eternity, the pain began to subside. But as the pain started to ebb away, he began to see images. Images that he was unfamiliar with. Wait- no... they weren’t images...

They were memories.

It had worked.

He gave out a little laugh, then closed his eyes, enjoying what felt like a movie playing in front of him.

For the first time ever, he felt complete.

He watched in glee as he saw himself training with Ras Al Guhl, watched himself kill anyone who would dare defy him at the age of eight, watched as he met his father for the first time, watched as the Batman taught him about morality, watched himself grow as a person, watched himself make friends, watched himself-

Meet a certain hero who he would come to respect and... love... at first as a brother, but as he entered his teenage years, he began to see him as more than a brother. He saw himself trying to seduce the man, watched himself doing it for months. Then watched as the man succumbed to his efforts, saw himself kissing the man, saw himself...

Fall in love.

And in that moment, he knew that he had to have the man named Dick Grayson.


	2. When Bruce calls, you KNOW something's wrong

Dick had been training at the local gym for about an hour when he heard his phone go off. He got off the balance beam he had been on with a little flip and went to see who was calling. It was Bruce. Oh joy. As much as he’d rather not talk to the oversized bat, Bruce never called unless there was something important, so he begrudgingly presses the accept call button.

“Bruce, this had better be go-“

“Damian’s been kidnapped,” Bruce interrupted, and Dick paused at the note of panic in his voice. Batman never got panicked.

Then what Bruce had said sunk in, and it was Dick’s turn to panic.

“Wait, what?! Who kidnapped him? Where is he? Do you know if he’s okay? Do you have any-“

“Dick, calm down,” Bruce said gruffly.

Dick took a deep breath. “I’m coming over right now.”

“Good,” Bruce said, which honestly startled Dick a bit. Usually Bruce tries to put everyone at arm’s length and often insisted that he didn’t need help.

Dick hung up and immediately changed into his costume, ran out the door, and went at least ten miles and hour above the speed limit the entire way from Blüdhaven to to Gotham, reaching Wayne Manor in less than half an hour. He burst through the door, not bothering to knock, and made his way to the first cave entrance he saw. When he got to the cave, he was met with a sight that he didn’t think he’d ever seen before. Bruce was sitting at the Batcomputer, all Batted up with a half empty bottle of whiskey and a glass next to him. Batman had a rule to never drink on the job, and he most definitely never drank in the cave, often dumping out bottles of beer that Jason brought in occasionally, saying his famous ‘my cave my rules’ line.

“Bruce,” Dick said tentatively, “tell me what happened.”

Bruce looked up at him with dead bloodshot eyes. “They took him. Here. In the cave. I was upstairs. I could’ve stopped them.”

Oh. No wonder Bruce was in this state.

“Bruce, who took him?”

“Heretic.”

Dick raised a brow. “Who?”

“Heretic. He’s new. Took me on alone last week and I barely got out with my life.”

Dick could see how shaken Bruce was. This ‘Heretic’ guy had proven himself an equal to the Batman, and taken his son.

Dick furrowed his brow. This wasn’t going to be easy. “Alright, what do you know about this guy?”

Bruce refilled his glass and took a long drink. “I don’t know anything.”

Dick paused. “Wait- what? Come on, you’ve gotta know something! You’re Batman! You know everything about everyone!”

Bruce slammed a fist onto the monitor. “I told you I. Don’t. Know. Anything. I don’t have a name, I don’t have a location, I don’t even have a motive. I. Have. Nothing.”

Dick had never seen Bruce like this. Then again, he had never had an equal who he knew nothing about and had taken his son.

Well, Dick thought, if Batman was going to act like he couldn’t handle the situation, then he was going to have to step up.

He turned Bruce’s chair to face him and grabbed his shoulders. “Bruce, you need to snap out of it!” He gave his shoulders a shake. “You’re son has been kidnapped and instead of trying to find him, you’re sitting here drinking you’re problems away, and that’s not gonna get him back. So you need to get your shit together and start doing what you do best.”

Bruce stared up at him with shock, and after a moment, he nodded his head. A determined look in his eye.

“You’re right,” he said. And with that, he turned back to the Batcomputer and began pulling up documents and surveillance footage, making small notes here and there.

Dick smiled. “Alright, what can I do?” He asked. Bruce’s face morphed into his ‘I work alone’ look. “And if you tell me to stay out of this, I will run you over with the Batmobile, I swear to god!”

Bruce looked up to see if he was bluffing, but Dick looked as serious as he had ever been. “Dick, this is extremely dangerous. This isn’t just another petty criminal, this is-“

“Oh, stow it, Bruce,” Dick said harshly. His face softened. “You know, he’s important to me too. He may be your son, but he’s also the love of my life.”

Bruce hesitated before making his decision. “I suppose... you could go to the warehouse where I saw him last week and try to find something that could be useful,” Dick looked at him disapprovingly. He knew it was just busy work. “And... there are a few people who may know something about him. I could get you a list?”

Dick nodded. He walked over to his bike, getting ready to go. “Send the list to my phone,” he glanced back at Bruce. “See you later, Bats.”

And then he was gone.

Heretic was outside a rundown building in Blüdhaven. To most people, it was just another ordinary building in that shit hole of a town, but not to him. This was the building where Richard John Grayson lived.

Grayson. Even just thinking of his name sent butterflies loose in his stomach. This was a completely foreign feeling that he never thought he would be able to feel. But he was more than just a weapon now. He was a person. He had feelings now, and those feelings told him that having Grayson was necessary.

He waited outside of the building until he determined that Grayson wasn’t home and that he most likely wouldn’t return any time soon. He had told himself when he came here that he would only scout out the apartment building to see where it was and get back, he didn’t want his mother to wonder where he had gotten off to, but being here, now, so close to a place that his beloved called home, he just couldn’t help himself.

He scaled the building until he reached Grayson’s window. He was giddy with excitement with the thought of learning more about the beautiful man he would soon call his own. Caught up in his emotions, he failed to notice the red light that flickered on when he opened the window.

He stepped into the dark room, the moon the only source of light. It was a small apartment, and there wasn’t much there, but to Heretic it was beautiful.

He inhaled deeply and was met with a sweet, fruity smell. It was the smell of Grayson’s shampoo. He remembered this scent, but had never actually experienced it himself.

He walked over to a table in a corner and found a map with little sticky notes all over it covered in Grayson’s loopy handwriting.

He walked into a second room and saw a small bed with blue sheets and a little teddy bear in a mask laying on the pillow. He picked it up.

“Beloved,” he whispered under his breath with a smile.

He opened a closet to see all of Grayson’s clothes, most of them simple T-shirts, one tux, a few button ups, and a tie. He pushed the clothes aside to find a second rack he knew would be there. It held several of his trademark costumes and there were a few different sets of disguises.

He could remember seeing all of this before, or rather the brat had remembered, but seeing it with his own eyes was exhilarating. He wanted more than anything to wait here until his beloved got back, but he knew he had already been out too long. So, with a scowl, he climbed back out the window and disappeared into the night.

Dick was on his motorcycle, heading back to Wayne Manor. The search of the warehouse had been a complete dead end, and he was extremely irritated about having wasted several hours doing nothing.

He pressed a button on the handlebar of his bike as he approached the Manor and a wall of rock opened up to reveal an entrance to the Batcave. He rode in and skidded to a halt next to the Batmobile.

“Bruce?” He called out as he dismounted from the bike.

“He’s not here, Master Grayson,” a familiar British voice called out. A grin spread across Dick’s face as he turned around to see the Butler.

“Alfred! It’s so good to see you!” He exclaimed and hugged him.

“Likewise, Master Grayson.”

“How’ve you been?” Dick asked cheerily.

“I am as I always am. Master Bruce has gone out to consult with a few... coworkers as to the whereabouts of Master Damian.”

Dick’s face fell as he remembered why he was here. He walked over to the Batcomputer to see what the Bat had been working on.

Alfred noticed the change in his mood. “We will get Master Damian back,” he said and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “The world’s greatest detective is on this case.”

Dick smiled sadly. “Yeah, I know I just can’t help but worry about him.”

Alfred heard a buzzing noise and turned around. “Pardon, Master Grayson, but is that light on your motorcycle supposed to be blinking?”

Dick wheeled around and saw the little red light on his bike flashing. “No, it’s not. That means someone broke into my apartment.” He turned back to the Batcomputer and began typing furiously on the keyboard and brought up the surveillance footage from the cameras in his apartment. There was a tall broad man dressed in black from head to toe with a mask over his face standing in the middle of his living room. He didn’t recognize the man, but something about him seemed familiar.

“Oh dear,” Alfred said, face falling.

“What is it, Alfred?” Dick asked without taking his eyes off the strange man.

“I am afraid that man is the Heretic.”

Dick froze. “The Heretic? Like, Batman fighting, Damian stealing Heretic?”

Alfred nodded. “That would be the one.”

Dick hesitated, then headed for his bike. “Alfred, tell Bruce what happened. I’m going over there myself.”

Bruce had gotten a call from Alfred while he was talking to Green Arrow and Alfred had told him about Heretic in Nightwing’s apartment. Bruce had jumped into the Batmobile without another word, leaving behind a very confused Arrow.

He pulled into the cave and was out of the car before the engine had gone off fully.

“Alfred, what happened?” Bruce asked immediately.

“Master Grayson returned from his search of the warehouse and discovered that his apartment had been broken into.”

“How do we know it’s Heretic?”

“Master Grayson pulled up this security footage on the Batcomputer, sir.”

Bruce looked at the monitor and lo and behold, there he was, the frame frozen on his mask. Bruce hit the play button and watched the footage until Heretic disappeared. Then he rewound it and watched over and over. After the fifth time, he paused the video and zoomed in on Heretic’s face.

“Alfred, look at this,” Alfred walked over to stand next to Bruce as he hit play. After a few seconds, he paused it again. “Did you see it?” He asked.

Alfred frowned. “Did I see what?”

“He said something,” Bruce mumbled. He began to type frantically, pulling up boxes here and am editing tool there, then hit play again.

“Beloved,” the video said ever so quietly.

Bruce froze, then played it again. Then again, and again until he was sure that he had heard right.

Alfred was pretty sure he knew what he Bat was thinking, and to be honest, he was thinking it too.

“Master Bruce, you don’t think... it couldn’t possibly be...” Alfred stammered.

Bruce hesitantly types on the keyboard again, pulling up a picture of Damian. He pulled up another box with the title ‘age simulation’ and hit enter. The picture began to morph and grow.

“Oh my word,” Alfred said shocked. “Is that-”

“It is“ Bruce said with a stony expression. “This is Damian in ten years.”

The figure was a perfect match with Heretic.

Dick quietly opened the door to his apartment, bo staff out and ready for a fight. He crept in and searched each room, but there was no sign of Heretic anywhere. He cursed and threw his bo staff across the room. He had missed him, missed a chance to get Damian back, missed a chance for justice. He sunk into a chair and put his face in his hands.

Why had Heretic come to his apartment? What did he want from him? He hadn’t seemed to have taken anything. Was it because he was looking for Damian?

Dick’s phone rang. It was Bruce.

“Did you find anything?” Dick asked.

“Dick, I know who Heretic is.”

Dick’s head shot up. “Who?!”

“Dick, it’s... well, it’s...”

“Oh spit it out!” Dick said impatiently.

“Dick, it’s Damian.”

Dick went silent.

“Dick?” Bruce said after a few moments “you still there?”

“It’s not Damian, it can’t be. I mean, it literally can’t! He’s definitely way older than Damian! And- and Damian was kidnapped by him!”

“Dick, it’s not exactly Damian, but, well... we think it’s a clone.”

Dick went silent again.

“Are you still there?”

“Why... why would someone clone Dami?” He said quietly.

“We’re not sure yet, but Alfred and I are following some leads.”

“Oh my god,” Dick said, panicking a bit. “If-if he’s Damian’s clone, then why does he need Dami? What’s he going to do to him?”

“I don’t know yet, Dick, but we’ll figure this out, okay?”

He took a deep breath to calm himself. “Yeah... yeah, okay.”

“Alright. Good. Now I need to go. The Joker just shot up a bank downtown.”

“How can you go after Joker when Damian is being held captive by his clone?!” Dick asked bewildered.

“Dick, just because Damian is gone doesn’t mean that crime stops, and where there’s crime, Batman is needed. I can’t just shun my responsibilities.”

Dick scoffed “Once again, it’s all about he Batman. As if Gotham couldn’t go one fucking night without you.”

“Dick-“ Bruce started with a disapproving tone.

“You know what? I don’t care. You go do whatever you need to Bruce,” and he hung up.

He sat there for a moment, still stunned by the news of Heretic’s identity. He needed to distract himself so that he didn’t dwell on it. Maybe he should take Bruce’s course of action. Suit up, hit the city, take his anger out on some of Blüdhaven’s scum. But he knew it was never good to fight angry. It left room for too many mistakes, and the probability of causing a fatal injury went up significantly. But he needed to do something or he was going to go mad.

As if I’m cue, his phone buzzed once more. It was Jason of all people.

He accepted the call and put the phone up to his ear. “What do you want?” He asked grumpily.

“Well hello to you too, sunshine!” Jason said, the sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“Look, Jay, I’m really not in the mood to put up with any shit right now.”

“Well, sounds like you could use a drink,” Jason said “I’m in Blüdhaven for a job, why don’t we meet at that bar you like downtown?”

Dick thought about it for a moment. It sounded like just the thing he needed. “Give me ten minutes.”

“See ya then,” and Jason hung up.

Fifteen minutes later, Dick was walking up to the doors of a rundown bar. He pushed the doors open and immediately picked out Jason in his brown leather jacket sitting at the counter with a cheap beer. Dick took a seat next to him and flagged the bartender.

“‘Bout time,” Jason grunted “I was just about to send out a search party.”

“Sorry, Jay. It’s been a long night,” Dick said with a sigh.

Jason hummed. “Wanna talk about it?”

Dick looked at him with surprise.

“What?” Jason asked at the look.

“Nothing, it’s just, you hardly ever want to talk about other people’s issues. You always say ‘it’s not my problem, so don’t complain to me about it,” Dick said, doing his best impression of Jason’s brooding voice.

Jason scoffed. “Yeah, well, you know that I make exceptions for you,” he bumped Dick on the shoulder. “I mean, you’re about the closest thing to family that I’ve got.”

“Awww!” Dick teased.

“Oh, shut up, Dick! Now are you gonna tell me what happened or not?”

Dick looked away for a moment, the smile he had slipping off his face. “I guess, but you’re going to think it’s weird.”

Jason laughed. “Dick, the guy who raised us put us in short shorts to go fight clowns while he was dressed as a bat. I’ve died. Nothing’s too weird anymore.”

That brought his smile back. “Well, Bruce called me earlier and-“

Jason groaned. “Did I miss someone’s birthday again, or did someone die?”

Dick raised a brow. “What? Neither. Why would you think that?”

“Those are the only reasons Bruce calls anyone,” Jason said.

Dick gave a little chuckle. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, but, not this time. He called and told me that... well, he said that Dami had been kidnapped,” Jason’s jaw fell open. “So, of course, I headed straight for the Gotham, and when I got to the cave, he was halfway through a bottle of whiskey, and-“

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jason cut in, “you’re telling me that Bruce was drinking in the Batcave?” Jason sounded bewildered.

“I know, it’s hard to believe.”

“Huh,” Jason said.

“Well, I don’t blame him. I mean he was upstairs when Dami was taken, and he almost got beaten before by the guy who took him.”

Jason looked at him in disbelief. “Who the hell took him?”

“Heretic,” Dick said with a scowl.

Jason raised his brow “Who?”

Dick sighed. “He’s... new. Well, kinda. Before tonight, not even Bruce had anything on him.”

“But you do now?” Jason asked.

“Well, Bruce is pretty sure that...” Dick cut himself off, not wanting to think about it.

“Pretty sure that he’s what?” Jason asked impatiently.

Dick decided to just come out and say it. “Bruce thinks he’s a clone... of Damian.”

There was a silence for a minute in which Jason opened his mouth several times to speak, only to close it again.

“I know it sounds crazy, and even I’m having a hard time believing it, but Bruce seems positive about it.”

“But... why would someone clone the brat?” Jason asked with shocked confusion.

Dick shrugged. “I’m just as lost as you are on this one,” Dick shook his head, “the thing that really confused me is why he broke into my apartment.”

“Wait- this lunatic broke into your apartment?” Jason asked.

Dick nodded.

“Did he take anything?”

“Not that I could tell. When I went back, everything was exactly where I left it.”

Jason furrowed his brow. “Maybe... maybe he was looking for you. I mean, he captured the Demon Brat, so maybe he’s going after you next.”

Dick looked at him with surprise. “I hadn’t thought of that. But what would he want me for?”

Jason shrugged. “I dunno, but maybe I should stay with you for a while. You know, in case he does try to get at you.”

Dick scoffed. “I can take care of myself, Jay.”

“Dick, I know that you’re a badass fighter. Hell, you’ve saved my ass more times than I can count, but this guy took on Batman and he captured the brat while he was in the fucking Batcave, so I don’t think a little extra protection would hurt.”

Dick thought for a moment and sighed. “Well, I suppose. But you’re sleeping on the couch. And don’t you dare touch my good liquor.”

Jadon waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. I know the drill.”

After that, they began to talk about meaningless gossip. As they drank more and more, the thought of Heretic and Damian had completely slipped their minds. And when they got back to Dick’s apartment, they slept soundly.


	3. SuperBat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is honestly just an excuse to show some SuperBat with Clark being a sweet sap and Bruce showing some form of emotion other than anger

By the next evening, word of Robin’s kidnapping had spread all throughout the masked community. Mostly thanks to Green Arrow. Everyone was still confused as to how he managed to keep his identity secret with a mouth that big.

Some of the heroes wanted nothing to do with the situation. Some felt pity for Batman, and while they didn’t care much for the latest Robin, they said that they’d keep an eye out. Some were worried about Robin, but knew that getting involved would only bring them trouble. But there were small few who were actively trying to find him. Tim was one. This was surprising to many people considering their strained relationship, but no matter how much they fought, Damian was still family. Bruce was spending every waking hour looking for him, isolating himself more than usual to ‘eliminate all distractions,’ while Alfred did everything he could to make sure he still took care of himself. Dick and Jason also went to every logical they could think of, Jason had abandoned his current case to help look.

But there was one group that no one really expected to care that much, but do indeed care almost as much as the Batfamily did.

The Supers.

That is, Clark, Jon, and Conner. They all had a vested interest in his family. There were only a few people who knew how close the two groups were. Bruce made sure of that.

After all, what would people think if they knew he was going out with the Kryptonian?

Clark didn’t care much about who knew as long as he had Bruce. Which is why he had no problem flying to Gotham the next night to check on his lover.

He spotted Batman running across rooftops and headed for him.

“Hey,” Clark said gently.

What are you doing here, Superman?” Batman asked without stopping.

“I thought I’d come see how you’re holding up,” Clark said soothingly.

“I’m fine, Superman, so you can go back to your own city now,” Batman said coldly.

Oh, if only telepathy was one of his powers, Clark thought to himself. He flew a few feet omg front of the Bat to stop him.

“Bru-“ Batman gave him a sharp look “Batman,” Clark corrected “I know you’re not okay. You know you can talk to me.”

“I don’t do heart to hearts,” Bruce said before trying to slip past the Kryptonian.

Superman simply moved with him, denying him passage. “Let me through,” Batman demanded impatiently.

“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me,” Clark said, crossing his arms.

Batman looked at him defiantly, but soon realized that he wasn’t going to be able to shake the man for the night, and after a moment he sighed in defeat.

“Not here,” he said gruffly as he turned around to head back to the cave,

“I could carry you,” Clark offered “We’d be there faster.”

Batman looked at him with disapproval “The day I let you carry me is the day He’ll freezes over.”

Clark shrugged “Just offering.”

The rest of the trip was silent. Clark knew Bruce was in Batman mode, and that meant he didn’t like to talk. After about ten minutes, they had reached the cave. Clark almost commented that he could’ve gotten there in two, but thought better of it.

Bruce headed straight to the Batcomputer, pulling up camera footage from all around Gotham and news reports. Clark floated over to him and put his hands on Bruce’s shoulders, Bruce flinching at the contact.

“Bruce,” Clark said. When he didn’t respond, Clark sighed. “Bruce, I need to know what’s going on, how you’re feeling, otherwise I can’t help.”

“I’m fine, Clark. And I don’t need help,” Bruce said coldly.

Clark spun Bruce’s chair around to face him. “Bruce, you need to talk to me,” Clark said firmly. Bruce opened his mouth, obviously about to object, but Clark wasn’t having it. “Bruce, I know that you think you don’t need anyone, that you have to hide your pain and you hate talking about this kind of stuff because it makes you feel vulnerable, but Bruce, you know that it’s okay when you’re around me. I’ve seen every side of you there is, and I would never think any less of you for telling me about your problems. You know that. So talk to me, Bruce,” Clark gave him his best puppy dog eyes.

Bruce looked down at his hands and after a moment, he removed his cowl. Clark smiled. He was out of Batman mode and was now his Bruce.

“I... I’m sorry, Clark. It’s just- you know I’m not good with these kinds of things,” Bruce said without looking at him.

Clark gave a sad smile and took his hands. “Bruce, it’s okay. I just need to know what’s going on with you.”

Bruce glanced up at him. “... I know.”

Clark pulled on his hand and gestured for Bruce to follow him. Bruce got up begrudgingly and followed him out of the cave and into one of the sitting rooms of the manor where they sat on a couch.

There were a few moments of silence in which Bruce refused to look at Clark. Clark reached out and turned Bruce’s head to face him.

“Bruce,” he said gently “it’s okay.”

Bruce started fidgeting “I-I don’t know what to say,” he said, sounding a bit frustrated. “I’m not used to this.”

Clark gave him a warm, comforting smile. “Just tell me what you’re feeling. Tell me how I can help.”

“I don’t need-“

“Bruce,” Clark said sternly “don’t do that,” Bruce looked away from him and Clark sighed “I know you always tell yourself that you don’t need help, that you can handle everything yourself, but you can’t hold the weight of the world on your shoulders alone forever. I’m here for you. I’m your boyfriend. You need to let me in, that’s how relationships work.”

Bruce’s face scrunched up in frustration. He hated when Clark played the ‘good boyfriend’ card.

“I... I messed up,” he said begrudgingly “I was in the house when Damian... when Damian was taken, and I-I,” Bruce sounded as if he was on the verge of tears, so Clark took his hands and gave them an encouraging squeeze.

“Go on, it’s alright,” he said warmly.

Bruce took a deep breath to compose himself. “I could have stopped it,” he said as his face immediately scrunched up again. “If I had been in the cave, or even just looked at the security cameras I- I could’ve been there and I could’ve protected him,” he choked up a bit again.

“Bruce, it’s alright,” Clark said

“No it’s _not_ alright!” Despite his best efforts, Some of Bruce’s tears were starting to leak from his eyes. “You don’t get it,” he sounded frustrated “it’s my job to protect him! I’m his _father_ and his _partner_.”

Clark rubbed his back soothingly “Bruce, everyone slips up sometimes-“

“Not me,” Bruce cut him off “I’m supposed to be the protector, I’m supposed to be the one that everyone can rely on, I’m supposed to keep everyone safe,” Bruce shook his head “But I can’t even keep my own _son_ safe!”

“Did you know that Jon got kidnapped once?” Clark said. Bruce looked up at him, cocking his head. “It’s true. Lex kidnapped him right around the time that I started letting him come out with me,” Clark looked down at his hands. “I was pretty much thinking the same things as you. But, I got him back. When I did, I was crying my eyes out, telling him how sorry I was, and do you know what he said to me?” Clark looked up at Bruce, his face hard and serious “He said that it wasn’t my fault. That there was nothing I could have done. He told me that it was just apart of the job, because you know what? It is,” Bruce opened his mouth to protest, but Clark wasn’t having it. “Bruce, how many times have you been held captive?”

Bruce closed his mouth and looked away. “I-I don’t know,” he mumbled.

Checkmate, Clark thought to himself. “And how many times have the _other_ Robins been kidnapped?”

Bruce sighed “I don’t know.”

“Exactly. And you _always_ get them back.”

Bruce’s face soured “Not _always_.”

Clark kicked himself mentally. “Well, with _one_ exception, and Jason was no where _near_ as skilled and well trained as Damian!” Bruce still didn’t look convinced.

Then Clark’s text tone went off. He pulled his phone out to look. It was Lois. Clark sighed. “I should probably go. Lois says that she’s got some big scoop for the Daily Planet that she wants me to help her cover.”

Bruce grabbed onto his arm. “Do… do you have to?” He asked hesitantly. Clark looked at him curiously. “I just- I don’t really want to be alone right now.

Clark smiled. “Alright,” He said and sat back down.

Bruce shifted closer to him. Clark put an arm around him and pulled him into his side where Bruce started to curl up against him. Bruce would _never_ admit to snuggling, and Clark would never imply it, because if he called it what it was, Bruce would stop and begin denying it with everything he had. So, they simply sat there _not_ cuddling, and enjoying each other’s company.


	4. Timmy really is a genius, or maybe everyone else is just stupid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, DC never did anything with Onyx, so basically I'm making her whatever I want, and I'm gonna give her some fucking backstory. Also, I am an avid reader of TimmyJayBird's works (PLEASE check them out, they are a GODDESS) and so they've gotten me to worship Timmy as a sass master, so expect that from start to finish.

Heretic was restless. He had been pacing back and forth in his makeshift room at their base of operation. When he had gotten back the night before, his mother had been waiting for him. He had told her that he was simply doing recon on the Batman, and although she believed him, he still got one hell of a lecture from her and was told to stay put until she needed him. Until she needed to use him, because to her, he was nothing more than a weapon.

He used to crave love from her, would do anything for her simply for a little praise from his mother. That was the original reason for him to gain the brat’s memories, because while he was lacking a life, he was also lacked love.

But now, now he didn’t care whether or not she loved him. He only cared about Grayson, about his Beloved. Now he only cared about _his_ love.

And he would have it.

There was a knock on his door, startling him. He straightened up, expecting his mother, but it was Onyx who walked in. Oh, Onyx. She was a great woman. She cared more about him than anyone he had ever met.

“Hello, Onyx,” he said with a curt nod.

Onyx nodded back. They both stood there for a moment in silence. Onyx hardly ever spoke, and when she did, it was only when she was alone with Heretic. It made him feel a bit special, and helped create somewhat of a bond between them.

“What brings you here?” Heretic asked when it became apparent that Onyx was not going to speak first.

Onyx paused for a moment. She was always careful with what she said. To her, words could be weapons sharper than any knife and more lethal than any poison. “I came to see how you are doing,” she finally said “And… I have brought news on the Grayson boy.”

Heretic became fully alert at the mention of his beloved’s name. “What news, Onyx? Is he alright?” He asked frantically.

“He is in perfect health as far as I can tell,” Onyx said gently so as not to alarm him.

Heretic relaxed slightly. “Then what is the news?”

“I have decided to keep tabs on him since you cannot,” Onyx began “and it seems that he has a… friend, who is set on being… a kind of guardian to Grayson.”

Heretic scowled. “Who is it?”

“The Red Hood.”

Heretic scoffed. “The Red Hood is an insignificant flea. I could take him on in my sleep. He is not fit to be my Beloved’s _guardian_ ,” Onyx nodded in agreement. “Onyx,” he said, looking her dead in the eye “You have my sincere gratitude you this.”

Onyx simply nodded her head, face as emotionless as ever. Then she stopped in thought. “All of the others may be loyal to Talia, but my loyalties will always lie with you.”

Heretic smiled, a rare sight. “And for that, I am grateful. If I could choose anyone to follow me, I would always choose you. A strong and skilled woman such as yourself is more valuable than any of those other degenerates, and I would not have it any other way.”

Onyx’s lips twitched slightly. It was nice to be wanted. Her whole life she had always been people’s last choice, had never been good enough, but with Heretic, she was his number one asset, his guardian, she might even go as far as to say friend. He _appreciated_ her. Grayson may be the love of his life, but Heretic and her had a bond that could never be broken.

“I will continue to observe the boy for you,” she said.

“Good,” Heretic replied.

And with that, Onyx bowed her head and left the room.

Tim was sitting in his office at Wayne Enterprises, going through some notes for his meeting with the board tomorrow. The rest of his work for the day had, of course, been done _hours_ ago. Unlike most of the other degenerates who couldn’t even understand half the work Tim did let alone their _own_ work, Tim usually got his day’s work done by lunch time, and if he was feeling productive, sometimes he would do the whole weeks’ worth by five.

Sometimes he was too smart for his own good.

So, now he was simply killing time. He was tempted multiple times to put on his costume and go out on the streets, but it was one of his personal rules to never bring his ‘extracurricular activities’ into his day job. It could risk someone finding out and may distract him from his work, so he separated the two completely. Of course he was _always_ tempted to go out and clean up the streets, who _wouldn’t_ be? But today he had been tempted more than usual.

Why? Because of Damian.

He and Damian had _never_ gotten along. That was a well-known fact. But it didn’t change the fact that he was family, and despite everything, he _did_ care about the brat.

He did, of course, know that Heretic was a clone of Damian. If Batman hadn’t told him, he would’ve simply found out by hacking the Batcomputer. It may be an extremely advanced system that was nearly impossible to hack into, but he was _Tim Jackson Drake_. He had even helped _build_ some of the systems. The news of his identity had shaken him at first. While everyone else was hung up on the _why_ of his creation, Time found it quite obvious. There was a _reason_ that Damian was born in the first place. He was, in Damian’s own words, the perfect weapon. He had the blood of Batman _and_ Ras Al Guhl running through his veins. He had been planned. So if there was going to be someone cloned as a weapon, it made sense that Damian was the first choice.

What Time thought people _should_ be focusing on was the _who_ and the _how_.

If they could figure out _who_ had the resources to accomplish the cloning, they could narrow their _subjects_ significantly. If they could figure out _how_ he was made, they could narrow down the _location_ significantly.

He had brought up this point with Bruce, but he wasn’t acting like himself. He was unfocused, his judgement clouded, unreasonable. He had simply nodded his head and told Tim that he was following some leads as he poured another glass of whiskey and suggested that he go deal with the hostage situation down on Fourth Street. So, Tim had done just that, and quite flawlessly, if he did say so himself.

Tim looked over at his briefcase. It wasn’t his usual briefcase. Unlike the briefcase that held all the important documents and his supplies, this one held his suit along with all his weapons and equipment. He never _ever_ brought it to work, it was best to make the temptation unavailable, but for some reason, today he just couldn’t help himself. Now he deeply regretted it.

He looked back to his notes, trying to concentrate. But after another five minutes of his mind wondering off to the easily accessible suit and then snapping back to his notes before starting the process again, he gave up. Throwing the papers onto his desk and grabbing the case, he left the office. “Debra, I’m stepping out for a while,” he said to his secretary on the way out.

“Alright,” Debra said, “May I ask why?”

“No, you may not,” Time said and continued down the hall and out of sight.

“O-okay,” Debra said in confusion.

Tim went directly to the ‘changing room.’ It was a room that hardly anyone knew about. it was the designated room for any of Bruce’s ‘special friends’ to get into costume without anyone knowing. He reached the door and typed in the passcode for the hour (it changed regularly for security purposes). Once he was changed, he exited via the window and shot his grappling hook to the next building over, making an easy decent onto the roof.

He sat down on one of the junction boxes and took out his phone, pulling up his contacts. He was going to need some assistance, or at least that’s what he told himself. He wasn’t sure who to _ask,_ though. He needed someone who _wanted_ Damian found. Someone who actually had _some_ intelligence. A good fighter. Someone he could _trust_. Someone…

Connor.

Connor was one of the only people who actually _cared_ about Damian. He was decently smart, he could most _definitely_ fight, and Tim trusted him with his life. The only problem was that Connor was currently in class at his college in Metropolis. Tim would _never_ ask Connor to leave in the middle of class. It was one of his rules. But then again, he seemed to be breaking all of his rules today. He hesitated, then pressed the call button. It rang a few times until there was a little click.

“Hello?” Connor said on the other line.

“Hey, Con, it’s Tim.”

“I know, what’s up?”

“I… I wanted some help on a case I’ve been working on, and you were the first person that came to mind.”

Connor paused “Aren’t you at work?”

Tim gave a nervous chuckle “Well, not anymore.”

“Huh,” Connor said. “Must be a hell of a case to make you leave work _and_ call me in the middle of class.”

Tim sighed “I’m sorry, Con. It’s just- this case is really important, and I can’t seem to focus on anything else.”

Connor could pick up the distress in his voice, and he understood what case Tim was working on and why he needed ‘help.’

“Alright. I’ll be over in 5, but you’re helping me with my homework,” Connor said playfully.

Tim smiled. “Deal.”

True to his word, five minutes later, Connor was soaring through the Gotham skies and landing next to Tim.

“Well, hello handsome,” Connor said as he put his hands on Tim’s waist.

“Right back at you,” Tim said with a smirk. He wrapped his arms around Connor’s neck and leaned in to give him a chaste kiss. He led him over to his little set up in the middle of the roof.

“So, what’s this case you’re working on?” Connor asked as a formality, already knowing the answer.

“Damian,” Tim said, sounding indifferent “I’ve developed an algorithm to eliminate as many unlikely locations as possible.”

“Alright,” Connor said as he looked at the monitor, not understanding anything shown on the screen. He liked to think that he was quite intelligent, but next to Tim he was like a five-year-old. “So, what do you need me for?”

“Muscle,” Tim said simply. Connor gave him a look “Plus, you’re one of the only people I can stand to work with,” Connor gave him another look “And… I haven’t seen you in a while. I’ve missed you and… I guess I didn’t want to do this alone,” Time said, looking down at his hands.

There it was. Tim always acted like nothing got to him, that he was fearless, so anyone who didn’t know him well enough would think that he was completely unaffected by Damian’s kidnapping. But Connor knew him probably better than anyone else, and he could see how shaken he was. Tim could probably have handled this alone with no problem at all, but although he would never admit it, he needed comfort.

Connor smiled at him. “Then how about we get this party started?” He said and leaned down to give Tim a kiss on the cheek.

Tim grinned and turned back to his setup with Connor looking over his shoulder. “So, I’ve narrowed it down to two locations. The first is a Lexcorp building. They have the technology that could possibly complete the process of cloning.”

“And the second?” Connor asked.

“It’s a Wayne Enterprises facility, which I find _highly_ unlikely.”

Connor hummed in agreement. “So, what’s the plan?”

“We check out both places and search for anything that could lead us to who took Damian and where.”

“Alright,” Connor said, straightening up “Let’s do this.”

A few hours later, they were walking up to the Wayne Enterprises lab downtown. They had visited the Lexcorp facility and searched it as well as they could while trying to avoid any staff and had come up with nothing. Hopefully, they would have more luck here.

Connor flew up to one of the windows, opened it, and flew in. He looked back, expecting to see Tim climbing in after him, but there was no sign of him. He poked his head back our, but Tim was nowhere in sight. Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he whipped around, preparing for the worst. But instead of a staff member or a security guard, he was met with Tim’s smiling face.

“How did you-“

Tim held up an ID card. “It’s always preferable to use the front door when you can,” he said cheekily.

“Connor raised a brow. “And you couldn’t’ve let me in?”

Tim shrugged. “You didn’t ask.”

Connor shook his head with a hint of a smile. “Let’s just get this over with.”

They began walking down long corridors, Tim leading the way, trying to be as quiet as they could. While Tim Drake was welcome at any Wayne Enterprises facility, Red Robin… not so much. After what seemed hours, they finally reached the only lab that had the tech needed for the cloning, which was on the 40th floor. Tim used his card again and the door unlocked with a click.

They knew the moment they walked in that they were in the right place. There was a machine in the middle of the room that looked as if it had exploded. There were bits and pieces of it everywhere, the shining white floor now covered in burn marks and soot.

Tim walked over to the remnants of the machine, being careful to avoid stepping on any of the wreckage. He gently ran a gloved finger down the side of the machine. “This is definitely what they used to clone Damian,” he mumbled.

“What is that thing?” Connor asked.

“This machine was made to stimulate rapid cellular growth. It could have the potential to speed up an aging process… but that could have, and from the looks of it _did,_ overload the machine.” Tim continued to circle the machine, studying it when he suddenly stopped and bent over to examine something.

“What is it?” Connor asked.

“A fingerprint,” Tim said as he pulled out a scanner. He scanned the print and the screen started beeping.

“ _Searching…Searching,_ ” this went on for a bit longer before “ _Match located._ ”

“No way…,” Tim said, eyes wide.

“Who is it?” Connor asked.

“Hold on… this can’t be right,” Tim said and scanned the print again. “I don’t believe this.”

“Who the _hell_ is it, Red?” Connor asked impatiently.

“It’s… it’s Damian’s mom.”

Connor’s mouth fell open. “You mean to tell me that Damian’s mother made a _clone_ of her own son? That’s _sick!_ Why the _hell_ would she _do_ that?” Connor said with disgust.

“Because,” Tim said “He’s the perfect weapon. That’s why he was born in the first place. Then, he abandoned her, so she decided to make a new one.”

Connor took a moment to process this. “When you put it that way… it actually kinda makes sense.”

“I know it does,” Tim said with a smirk “I thought of it.”

“True,” Connor agreed. You couldn’t deny that Tim was right about 90% of the time. “Shouldn’t we tell someone? Like, go to Batman or something?”

Tim scoffed. “Batman wouldn’t _want_ our help, and honestly? I don’t want to give it to him,” Tim said with a hint of malice. “Plus, he’s not exactly in a state to actually _use_ the information,” he mumbled, mostly to himself.

“Well,” Connor said cautiously, making a mental note to not bring up Batman for a while in front of Tim “I think we should tell _someone_. It doesn’t have to be-“Tim shot him a look “… someone you don’t think we should tell, but I think at least _someone_ else ought to know.”

Tim sighed. “I suppose you’re right,” he thought for a moment “I believe Nightwing is the best candidate for this information.”

Connor nodded “Makes sense.”

“Alright. I’ll head over tonight to tell him,” Tim said

“I’ll come with you,” Connor said, Tim looking as if he was about to protest “Red, I care about Damian too, and I know how hard this must be for all of you, and I want to be there for you guys.”

“I guess that Nightwing could use some extra support,” Tim said, looking down.

Nightwing’s not the _only_ one who could use it, Connor thought, but didn’t dare to say it aloud. “So, what do you want to do while we’re waiting?” Connor asked.

Tim smirked and sauntered over to Connor “How about we head back to my place,” he leaned in to whisper in his ear, Connor was pretty sure he knew what Tim was going to suggest “and I’ll help you with your homework.”

Or not. Tim chuckled at the disappointed look on his face.


	5. Tim knows his shit, Jason has a secret, and Dick is desperate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TIm and Connor go and tell Dick about their discovery, Jason calls a mysterious contact who gives him important info, and Heretic must decide whether he should leave his mother behind or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I meant to post this yesterday but got caught up with homework. I'm planning on posting a chapter every weekend.

“Oh, come on, Dick! Metropolis is more that half a day’s drive!” Jason exclaimed.

They had searched all around BlüdHaven and Gotham for any sign of Damian, but they had just about as much information now as when they had started. So, Dick wanted to go to Central City, stopping at Metropolis on the way.

“Jay, it’s not _that_ bad, and if we find something it’ll be worth it!” Dick said in a pleading tone.

“And if we don’t find something, then we will have wasted at _least_ two days for nothing!”

Dick pursed his lips. “Well, you don’t have to go. I’m perfectly fine with doing this myself,” he said with a huff.

“Dick, there’s no way I’m letting you out of my sight while Heretic is on the loose!” Jason said, crossing his arms.

“Well, then I guess you’re going to Central City.”

Jason groaned and threw his hands up in defeat. “Fine! Whatever!”

There was a knock at the door making them both pause. It was instinct in this kind of job to be paranoid by anything and everything.

“You expecting someone?” Jason asked.

Dick shook his head. Jason took out a gun and cocked it. “Jay! Put that thing away!” Dick said disapprovingly.

“Relax, they’re rubber bullets,” Jason said soothingly.

Dick sighed and headed for the door. He put his hand on the handle, preparing for anything and once again cursing the fact that there was no peephole on his door. He looked at Jay and put three fingers up in a countdown. When he reached one, he swung the door open and was met with a bored looking Tim and a startled looking Connor.

“Hey, Dickie,” Tim said casually. He looked behind him “Jay,” he said with a disinterested tone as if he weren’t pointing a gun directly at him.

“What’re you guys doing here?” Dick asked. Out of all the possible people that could show up at his door, he most definitely didn’t expect it to be Tim and Connor.

Tim walked in and Connor followed, keeping his eyes locked on Jason, who still had his gun raised.

“Connor and I came across some information that we think you’d find interesting,” Tim said.

“And what would that be?” Dick asked, his interest piqued.

“It’s about- Jason would you put that thing _down_ already? You’re making Connor nervous,” Jason slowly lowered the gun as Connor blushed. “Now, where was I? Ah, yes. We have some information about Damian.”

Dick stared at him. “Dami? Do you know where he is?”

“Unfortunately… no,” Tim said “But we do know who Heretic is working for.”

“Who?” Dick asked, sounding desperate.

“Calm down, Dick,” Tim said gently. “Heretic is working with Talia.”

There was a moment of silence as Dick and Jason let this new information sink in. “Wait, Talia as in Talia _Al Guhl_? Like, Damian’s _mother_ Talia? Leader of the League of Assassins Talia?” Jason said, slightly shocked.

Tim nodded. “That would be the one.”

Dick held a hand up. “So, you’re telling me that Talia cloned her own _son_? Why would she _do_ that?”

Tim sighed, rubbing his temples. “I am getting _real_ tired of explaining this. Dickie, why was Damian born in the first place?”

Dick took a moment, the his face began to fall “He was born to be the perfect weapon for the League of Assassins.”

“Exactly,” Tim said “And Damian left her, so she decided she would just make a new one.”

Jason grimaced. “That’s sick,” Tim hummed in agreement. Jason froze for a moment, then went for his phone.

“What’re you doing, Jason?” Connor asked.

“Gotta make a call,” he mumbled and left the room.

The three remaining looked at each other in confusion. “What was that about?” Connor asked. Tim and Dick shrugged.

A moment later, Jaron reappeared. “I may have a lead on where Talia’s hiding out,” he said.

The others looked at him with surprise. “Wait, who did you call?” Tim asked skeptically.

Jason looked away. “An… associate.”

Tim raised a brow “And that associate would be?”

Jason looked at him with mild annoyance. “I don’t have to tell you, now stop bugging me about it!” he snapped.

“Nevermind that,” Dick said, “Where’s Talia?”

“I’ll let you know in about… three minutes,” Jason said, looking at his watch. Everyone looked at him with curiosity. “What? The guy didn’t know where she was off the top of his head. He’s gotta look into it. But he works fast, so I can promise you it won’t be long.” Tim looked as if he was going to start interrogating Jason again but Dick shot him a warning look, and he thought better of it.

“So, Tim, Connor, how did you find out that Heretic is working with Talia?” Dick asked.

Tim sighed and started examining his nails “We decided to go check out possible locations where the cloning took place. We ended up at one of the Wayne Enterprise’s tech facilities and found one of the machines for cell growth that was blown up and on the side of the machine was one of Talia’s fingerprints,” he said sounding bored.

Dick looked at him in confusion. “Seriously? Talia would _never_ be clumsy enough to leave a fingerprint behind.”

“I know,” Tim said “But it was definitely hers. I triple checked.”

“My guess is that they had to leave in a hurry and didn’t have time to clean up,” Connor suggested.

“But why would- “Dick started but was interrupted by a buzzing noise. Jason pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it up to his ear.

“Hey, you got it?” he paused to listen “Yeah, yeah, I know I owe you. So, where is it?... Seriously?... Alright, thanks… yeah, Tuesday, I’ll be there,” and he hung up “They’re at the Sisters of Perpetual Grace Covent,” They all looked at him “What?”

“ _Who the hell did you call?!”_ Tim said impatiently, sounding frustrated.

“None of your damn busines, Drake,” Jason spat, glaring at Tim “I got the location, didn’t I? What does it matter where I got it from?”

Tim opened his mouth to argue “Guys, that’s _enough_!” Dick practically shouted, walking between them “Tim, you can bug Jay about this later,” Jason looked at him indignantly “but right now we need to _focus!_ We need to make a plan.”

Tim sighed, but nodded in agreement “Fine, but this conversation is _not_ over.”

“Thank you,” Dick clapped his hands “Alright! Let’s get started. Tim, you find schematics for the Covent, Jay, you gather intel on Talia and Heretic, Connor, you call up your family. We’re gonna need some backup.”

“What’re you going to do?” Connor asked.

Dick’s face hardened “I’m gonna go talk to Batman.”

Onyx was speeding down street after street, trying to get back to the Covent as quickly as possible. She had seen and heard everything those Batbrats and the Super had said, dand she needed to inform Heretic.

Once she finally reached her destination, she dismounted her bike and barely had the kickstand up before she was dashing through the halls to Heretic’s room. She burst through the door to find Heretic lying on his bed looking at her with alarm.

“Onyx, what is it?” Heretic asked, sitting up.

She took a moment to catch her breath “The Grayson boy… and his friends… they know where we are.”

Heretic’s eyes widened. “How?”

“The Red Hood found out through one of his contacts.”

Heretic grimaced. “I must warn my mother.”

Onyx scowled. She hated Talia. Hated how she treated Heretic. Hated how Heretic practically worshipped her, only to be treated like scum. “Heretic, do you really think that is a wise decision?”

Heretic looked at her and cocked his head, confused “I don’t understand.”

Onyx paused. She had to go about this carefully, had to convince him to leave Talia behind. “If you were to tell Talia, she would have questions. Questions on how they found our location. Questions about why they are interested in us. Questions that could reveal what we have done.”

Heretic gritted his teeth, then began to pace, considering their options. He knew she was right, but that didn’t mean that he liked it.

Onyx spoke once more after careful evaluation of the situation. “You know, if we were to leave and the heroes came here, your mother would most certainly win, no matter what the circumstances,” Heretic stopped his pacing. Onyx put on what she hoped was a soothing voice. “They are _heroes_ , they cannot kill because of their morals, which puts them at a very high disadvantage. Your mother is very strong, and although the rest are not as skilled, they are still formidable… to some extent. The heroes will not stand a chance against them, even if we are not present for the battle.”

Heretic considered this. After a minute, he slowly nodded his head. “Yes…” he said hesitantly “Yes, of course my mother would be fine without us. She has no equal…”

Onyx smirked “And think of this: if we were to leave, when you capture the Grayson boy, you will not have to hide him from your mother. You will not have to sneak around with him, and can be together wherever you wish,” She said, officially sealing the deal.

Heretic smiled. “Then it is settled. We leave in an hour.”


	6. Bruce is a mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick goes to Bruce to ask for his help on the rescue mission for Damian, but when he arrives, he finds that Bruce is in no shape to do much of anything. Clark comes to help, and he gives a little lesson on consent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, LinaUzumaki posted in the comments that they couldn't take the suspense of the last chapter, so, I'm gonna give you guys the one that I was gonna post next Sunday today. This is also to make up for posting late last week. 
> 
> This chapter is a little lesson on consent, kids.

Dick was begrudgingly walking up to the doors of Wayne Manor. He was _not_ looking forward to the conversation he was about to have. He never did when it came to Bruce. He hit the doorbell and waited for a few moments.

The doors opened to reveal Alfred. “Ah, Master Grayson. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Dick gave him a look “Alfred, you can drop the formalities.”

Alfred smiled at him “My apologies, Master Dick, it is an old habit, and those are the hardest to break.” They began walking through the foyer together. “So, why are you here?”

Dick sighed. “I need to talk to Bruce. We found Dami.”

Alfred stopped, gaping at Dick. “How-Where is he?”

“At the Sisters of Perpetual Grace Covent.”

Alfred narrowed his eyes. “Master Damian… is being held at a convent?”

“Yep,” Dick said simply. “So, I need to talk to Bruce about it and see if he can help.”

Alfred sighed “I’m not sure if he would be much help at the moment,” Dick gave him a puzzled look. “Master Bruce… he hasn’t been doing well, and-well, perhaps you should just go see for yourself. He is upstairs brooding in his room.”

Dick rolled his eyes “Of course he is.”

“I have some cleaning to attend to,” Alfred said, though Dick knew that he recognized that Dick should probably be alone with Bruce for this conversation.

“Okay. And Alfred,” Dick said, stopping the Butler “Thank you.”

“For?”

“Just-for everything, really.”

Alfred smiled “Of course, Master Dick.”

And they parted ways.

Dick didn’t quite know what exactly he was going to say to Bruce, but he had four flights of stairs to figure it out. By the time he reached Bruce’s room, he had a decent. He took a deep breath and knocked. There was no answer. He knocked again. “Bruce?” No response. “Bruce, it’s Dick,” he waited again. He was starting to get ticked off. Then he heard a loud crashing sound from behind the door. Fearing the worst, he took a few steps back, then charged the door, forcing it open. He was met with the sight of Bruce, sprawled out on the floor, an upturned nightstand, and several broken bottles around him. Dick immediately rushed over to him.

“Bruce, what the hell happened?!”

Bruce looked up at him, seeming a bit dazed. “Hmm?” he said drowsily.

Dick narrowed his eyes. “Are you drunk?”

“’M not drunk,” Bruce said, slurring his words slightly “I only had about three glasses”

Dick looked around at the mess, which looked as if it contained more bottles than Bruce usually drank in a month. “Are you sure it was three glasses and not three bottles?” Bruce tried to get up, but lost his balance, falling back into Dick, who grunted. Bruce wasn’t exactly a pixie. “Bruce, are you okay?”

Bruce gave a bitter laugh “’M _fine_! Why wouldn’t I be? My son’s only been kidnapped by his clone and I don’t even know where to _begin_ to look! So I’m just _fantastic_.”

Dick grimaced. Probably wasn’t the best question to ask. “Sorry,” he said awkwardly.

Bruce started to push away from Dick. “I need another drink,” he said and started towards a cabinet that most likely held more liquor.

Dick blocked him “Bruce, I think you’ve had enough,” Bruce simply scoffed at him and made to go around him, but Dick simply moved with him.

“Let me through, Dick,” he growled.

“No,” Dick said firmly “You’ve had enough.”

Bruce scowled at him. “I can do whatever I want, and you can’t stop me,” he made another attempt to go around Dick. When he blocked him off, Bruce snapped and swung at him. On any given day, Bruce would’ve been able to take Dick down without breaking a sweat, but in his current state, he could hardly walk in a straight line, let alone fight.

“Bruce,” Dick said as he dodged the punch “don’t do this,” Bruce threw another punch “Bruce, you’re going to hurt yourself,” a third swing, and Dick had had enough. He dodged behind him and put his arm around his neck and put his other hand behind his head, effectively restraining him. “Bruce, you need to calm down! I don’t want to hurt you,” Bruce struggled for a few moments, but then went limp. “Good,” Dick said and released him.

Bruce rubbed his neck and glared at Dick. “Why are you here anyway?” He asked.

Dick paused. He had originally come here to ask for Bruce’s help, but in his current state, he was more likely to get them all killed than to be of actual use. “I… I came to check up on you. Alfred said he was worried.”

Bruce scoffed. “I’m _fine_.”

Dick sighed. “Of course you are,” he looked at his watch. Every second that he spent here was another second that Damian was in danger. “Look, Bruce, I have to go, I want you to go lie down, okay?” Bruce scowled, but went over to the bed and laid down. “Good. I’ll have Alfred come and check on you soon.” He said before walking out of the room.

When Dick closed the door, he took a moment and leaned back on it. He couldn’t believe this. Bruce had never shut down like this. He had always taken his emotions out of the scum of Gotham. He needed help… Dick thought for a moment. He needed… Super help.

Dick pulled out his phone and quickly dialed Clark’s number. The phone rang twice before a little clicking sound.

“Hello?” Clark’s voice said.

“Hey, I need your help.”

“With what?”

“It’s… it’s Bruce. He’s totally shut down, and I think that he could use some support.”

Clark paused. “You know, I just got a call from Connor about ten minutes ago saying that you guys needed help with a rescue mission.”

Dick sighed. “I know, but I think this is more important.”

There was a short silence. “I’ll be over in five.”

“Thanks, Clark,” and they hung up.

Dick made his way down the four flights of stairs, and as he reached the bottom, he saw Alfred with a feather duster. He looked up as he heard Dick approaching.

“Ah. Master Dick. How did it go?” Alfred asked.

“It… could’ve gone better.”

Alfred nodded. He could guess what exactly had transpired. “You didn’t tell him about Master Damian, did you?”

Dick shook his head. “But I did call in for some help for Bruce. Some… Super help.”

Alfred’s lips turned upwards. “A wise decision, I believe. When will this ‘Super help’ arrive?”

Dick looked at his watch and before he could even say anything, the sound of the doorbell went off. “I’d say right about now,” He said with a smirk.

They both made their way to the front door, and sure enough, upon opening it, there stood Clark in his civilian cloths.

“Hey,” Clark said. “Came as fast as I could,” he adjusted his glasses nervously “How is he?”

“He’s… not himself,” Dick said “He’s downed about as many booze today as Jason has in a week.”

Clark grimaced. “I’m gonna go see him. I’ll probably stay the night if that’s alright with you, Alfred.”

Alfred inclined his head “Of course, Master Clark. You are always welcome here.”

Clark smiled, then was gone before they could even blink.

Dick sighed. “I should probably go too.”

Alfred nodded. “Of course,” As Dick started out the door, Alfred grasped his shoulder to stop him. “Master Dick,” he turned around to find a peculiar look on Alfred’s face. “Do be careful. I… I do not want to see another one of you harmed.”

Dick gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Alfred. Nothing bad’s gonna happen, and we _will_ come back with Dami.”

Alfred nodded. “Best of luck, Master Dick.”

And with that, Dick headed back to the safehouse.

Clark was standing outside of Bruce’s door, pacing. HE knew he shouldn’t have left him alone, that he should’ve been a good boyfriend and stayed, but the Daily Globe had called, and he was saving his vacation days for upcoming missions. Of course, he didn’t think that Bruce would shut down like this, but even so, he should’ve been there. He didn’t know why he was beating himself up so much over this. Perhaps it was the vulnerability that Bruce had shown the last time that they had been together?

He took a deep breath before knocking on the door. “Bruce? It’s Clark.” Clark heard Bruce grunt from behind the door and took it as permission to enter. Bruce was lying down in his bed, one arm over his eyes. “Hey,” Clark said as he approached Bruce. He grunted again, and Clark sat down next to him. “How’re you feeling?”

Bruce peeked out from behind his arm at Clark. “I feel like I need a drink.”

Clark looked around the room, noticing the bottles scattered throughout it. “I… don’t think that’s such a good idea. Why don’t we do something else instead?”

Bruce’s face hardened for a moment before a smirk made its way onto his lips. “What’d you have in mind?” He asked, sitting up and getting close to Clark.

As he spoke, Clark got a face full of his breath, which smelled like pure whiskey, causing him to cough a bit. “What do you want to do?”

“I have some ideas,” Bruce said, putting a hand on Clark’s leg.

Clark then got what Bruce was hinting at and blushed. “Oh, Bruce, no. We can’t.”

Bruce leaned in and whispered in his ear. “Oh, come on, Boy Scout. Let’s have a little fun.”

Clark pushed him away gently. “Bruce… you’re drunk. We can’t do this.”

Bruce’s face soured. “Why? Don’t you love me?”

Clark was struggling with words. “Bruce, of course I love you, but-“

“Well if you love me, why don’t you prove it?”

Clark sighed. Did he want to? Absolutely. Could he? No way. Bruce hardly ever wanted to have sex, and when he did, he always put on that hard persona of his. So seeing Bruce so open and actively _asking_ for this was appealing beyond belief, but he couldn’t. Bruce was drunk. He wasn’t in his right mind. Drunk people can’t give proper consent, so he couldn’t take Bruce up on his offer.

So, with that in mind, he took Bruce’s hands and looked him in the eye. “Bruce, I _do_ love you. God, I love you with all my heart, but if you were sober, you wouldn’t be asking me to do this. In fact, I’m pretty sure if _I_ suggested it, you’d turn _me_ down, so I’m sorry, but I can’t.” Bruce still looked hurt and offended. “Tell you what,” Clark said “When you’re sober, we will do whatever you want as many times as you want it, okay?

“Okay, I guess,” Bruce mumbled out.

Clark pulled him into a hug and kissed his forehead. “Hey,” he said as he pulled back “how about we go downstairs and watch a movie instead? We can have Alfred make us some popcorn.”

Bruce considered this for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, but I pick the movie.”

Clark chuckled “Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked that! Next chapter is the rescue mission! Will it succeed? Will it fail? If I get enough comments that ask me to post early, then I can get the next chapter out by tonight...
> 
> Also, if you leave a comment, I'll do my best to reply


	7. The Rescue Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are finally going on their rescue mission to save Damian. Will they succeed? Will they fail? I guess we're about to find out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that you guys are probably DYING to find out what's gonna happen on the rescue mission, and LinaUzumaki is curious about what's gonna happen... and they called me fabulous, which motivated me to post this chapter early!  
> Just so you know, I've already said this, but I'll say it again, I'm a HUUUUGE fan of TimmyJayBird, (Check out their works), and they made TIm into a sass master, so expect that. Also, little warning, but things are gonna get a loooot worse before they get better

Jason, Tim, Connor, And Jon were all huddled around a table when Dick arrived at the safehouse.

“What’s going on?” Dick asked as he closed and locked the door.

All eyes turned to him. “Where’s Batman?” Jason asked.

“Not coming,” Dick replied.

Tim raised a brow. “Not coming? You’d think he’d jump at this thing. I mean, he’d surely want to be part of rescuing his own _son_.”

“Well, I couldn’t tell him,” Dick said, starting to get slightly irritated.

“Why the hell not?” Jason asked. “I mean, that’s _why_ you went over there.”

Dick huffed. “I didn’t tell him because he’s drunk off his ass and he’d probably end up getting us all killed. Believe me, we’re better off without him,” he said, effectively ending the conversation. “Now, do we have a plan?”  
Tim nodded. “We have all the information we can get.”

Dick approached the table. “Alright. Show me what you’ve got.”

Tim rolled out a blueprint on the table. “This is a breakdown of the Covent; or at least what the _public_ sees,” Tim pulled out another sheet and rolled it out. “This is the _actual_ layout,” he said with a smirk.

Dick leaned over the print to study it. There were plans showing a regular church on the first print, but on the second, there was an underground portion.

“Now,” Tim said, “We think that they’re keeping Damian here,” Tim pointed to a little room in the underground.

Dick nodded. “Do we know who we’re up against?”

“We’re not quite sure,” Jason said “I wouldn’t expect too many people though, Talia isn’t exactly a team player, and she’s got _major_ trust issues, so the group should be small,” Jason leaned on the table “Problem is we don’t know _who_ she’s got. For all we know, she could have Lex or fucking Eobard or some shit.”

They were all a bit pessimistic about this whole thing, but Jon was always a ray of sunshine when things went dark. “Come on, guys! We can do this!” He said enthusiastically. Though it didn’t exactly lighten the mood like he thought it would, so, he tried again. “Okay, so maybe we don’t have Batman, but we have three of his _best_ prodigies! That’s like having three Batmans! Batmen? Whatever. And I know that we don’t have Superman, But we have two people with his exact same powers! That he’s _personally_ trained! We _can_ do this!” They all looked a little bit more hopeful. “We _have_ to do this…” Jon looked down at his hands, suddenly losing his energy “I want my best friend back.”

Dick’s face hardened. “Well, then we had better make a plan. Because we _are_ going to get Dami back,” he looked around at them all, and suddenly it seemed that they had all been convinced that they _were_ going to succeed, that they _could_ do it.

They were all going to the Sisters of Perpetual Grace. Jason and Dick on their bikes, Tim in his tricked-out car, and Connor and Jon flying next to them. They were as prepared as they could possibly be with the limited information that they had.

Once the Covent was in sight, Dick slowed his bike. “Let’s stop here,” he said over the coms. They all stopped their rides and grouped up. Dick crouched down and rolled out a simplified tactics board. “Alright,” he said, taking in the plan. “Hood, you and I will go in the front. We don’t know what to expect, so keep your guard up,” he pointed to another part of the board “Boy of Steel, you’ll go above us in case there’s any trouble,” he gestured to another area “Superboy, Red Robin, you two will go around the outside to the back,” he pointed to a tower at the back of the Covent “We think Damian is being held here. You two will try to find him and get him out of there ASAP,” He looked at Jason and Connor “Our job is to keep all attention off of Red Robin and Superboy. Does everyone understand the plan?” They all nodded “Alright, Boy of Steel, Red Hood, let’s go out first. Once we have their attention, you two move.”

Jason and Dick both got back on their bikes while Connor soared ahead.

“How’s if looking, Boy of Steel?” Dick asked Connor while he started his bike.

“It looks… normal. Are you sure that this is where Talia’s base is?”

“Positive,” Jason said “My contact wouldn’t lie.”  
“ _Who the hell is your contact?!”_ Tim hissed into the coms.

“Boys,” Dick said reproachingly “Do this later. Now, what exactly does it look like up there?”

“It _literally_ just looks like a normal Covent. There are a few nuns out, but not a single bad guy. There aren’t even any guards.”

Dick was a bit taken aback. “Well, keep your guard up anyway. We don’t know what to expect.”

Dick and Jason rode their bikes up to the entrance. Connor was right. There wasn’t a single guard, weapon, or bad guy in sight. Dick started to feel uneasy. They passed the threshold of the Covent where they were met with the sight of about twenty nuns simply going about their business. The two dismounted their bikes. Jason leaned close to Dick “Do you think _they_ could be working with Talia?” he asked, half joking.

Dick scoffed. “Jason, they’re _nuns_. They’re literally the opposite of a villain.”

“Yeah, well-“

“Guys?” Connor interrupted “The nuns have guns!”

The two swiveled around to see about five nuns atop the battlements holding machine guns.

“Shit,” they said in unison as the nuns began shooting. They started to make a break for the doors, but were met with about twenty more nuns holding katanas.

“Are you fucking _kidding_ me?” Jason said as he pulled out his guns, loaded with rubber bullets, of course. “Are those fucking _samurai swords?!”_

“Yeo,” Dick said, pulling out his batons “They’re nunjas.”

Jason groaned at the terrible pun. “Hey, Steel, you wanna get down here?”

Connor landed on the battlements and took out the nunjas with guns. “It feels _severely_ wrong to fight nuns,” he said as he landed next to the other two.

“I told you, they’re not _nuns_ they’re _nunjas_ ,” Dick said as he hit one of them over the head.

Meanwhile, Tim and Jon had begun to make their way around the side of the building. It was right on the edge of a cliff, so the road was narrow, and getting thinner as they went.

“Hey, Red Robin?” Jon said.

“Hm?” Tim responded idly.

“Do you think… maybe you should leave the car? “ he said hesitantly “I could carry you the rest of the way there.”

Tim smirked. “Don’t you worry, Superboy, I’m fine. This baby is _more_ than capable to take me all the way.”

“Alright,” Jon said nervously.

After a minute, Tim looked at the road and hummed. He looked down at the dash, flicked a few switches and hit a red button, then he drove straight off the cliff. Jon gasped, stopping midair, readying himself to dive, when he noticed that the car wasn’t dropping, but rising, until it was floating right next to him.

“Well? Come on! We don’t have all day,” Tim said with a cocky grin, then he took off.

Jon’s mouth hung open for a second, but turned into a grin as he sped to catch up to Tim.

It wasn’t long til they reached the desired tower at the back of the Covent. Jon touched the wall. “There’s… no door,” he said, puzzled.

Tim rolled his eyes. “Well of _course_ there’s no door. It’s right next to the cliff. If there _was_ a door, people would just fall right off.”

“Oh,” Jon said, feeling stupid. Then he paused “But- how are we supposed to get in?”

Tim grinned “The _fun_ way.”

Jon tilted his head in confusion. “What’s the ‘fun way?’”

Tim nodded to the wall “Punch it.”

“Ah,” Jon said as it hit him. He smiled. This _was_ the fun way. Then he pulled his arm back and punched the wall, crumbling it as if it were made of wet sand instead of stone, making a decent hole for them to climb into. Tim pulled his car up to the wall, then went vertical. Four hooks shot out and dug into the wall, holding it in place. Tim killed the engine before climbing out and into the tower. Jon was impressed, though he supposed at this point he shouldn’t be surprised.

Once they were both inside, Tim pulled out a mini projector that lit up the wall with a map of the Covent. “Alright,” he said “We’re here, on the main level,” he pointed to the tower, then the image changed “but we need to get here, underground, which is where they would be holding Damian.”

“Right,” Jon said “And how do we get there again?”

Tim looked at the map again “If I’m right, which I always am, there should be a stairwell to the lower levels… here,” he pointed to a spot a few corridors away, then turned the projector off and pocketed it. “Let’s go.”

They made their way down hall after hall, going as quickly and quietly as they could. They made one more right turn and were met with a dead end. Jon furrowed his brow. “Tim, are you sure that you got the directions right?”

Tim gave him a condescending look. “Oh, Superboy,” he approached the wall “you need to learn to think outside the box,” he started running his hand along the wall. Jon was about to question him when Tim pushed on one of the bricks, creating a rumbling sound and the wall began to sink into the floor, revealing a set of stairs. “Not every wall is _actually_ a wall.”

“How-“ Jon started.

“I lived in a house with at least one secret entrance in every room. I know _all_ the tricks in the book, and the moving wall is a classic.”

“Oh,” Jon said, not quite knowing how to respond.

They began the descent down the stairs, and soon reached the bottom. When they arrived, they were met with a simple cave-like room.

“Well,” Tim said, “We better start looking.”

Jason punched a nunja in the face, knocking her out with ease. He looked around, breathing heavily. “Was that the last of ‘em?”

Dick bent over, trying to catch his breath. “I think so.”

“We should probably get going, then,” Connor said, seeming just as energetic as he had been before the fight.

“Damn Kryptonians,” Jason mumbled, but still followed Connor.

“Tim, update,” Dick said into the com.

“We found the stairs to the lower levels and we’re searching as we speak.”

“Great,” Dick said, “Where are the stairs?”

“First floor, third corridor on the left. There’s a fake wall.”

“Classic,” Jason said.

“Gotcha,” Dick said, “Let’s move.

The three took off down one hall after another until they reached the fake wall. Dick felt around for a few seconds before finding the right brick and pushed it in. they flew down the stairs, literally in Connor’s case, but halted at the sight they were met with when they reached the bottom. In front of them was Talia, Blockbuster, Electrocutioner, Firefly, Killer Moth, Hellhound, and Tusk. Tim and Jon were nowhere in sight.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise?” Talia said, putting a hand on her hip. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

Dick scowled, just barely keeping his anger from exploding. “Where’s Robin, you Bitch?”

Talia’s scowled. “Excuse me?”

“I said _where. Is. Robin?_ ” Dick said, his eyes flashing with rage.

“I have absolutely _no_ idea what you are talking about,” Talia said flippantly.

Dick lunged, but Connor grabbed him and pulled him back. “ _Liar!_ ” he all but shouted.

“I am _not_ lying! I have no idea where my son is. I have not seen him since my beloved took him in.”

“Bullshit,” Jason said with malice. “We _know_ that the fucking clone you made took him. Batman caught it on camera.”

Talia froze. “He did _what_?”

“You didn’t know, did you?” Connor said.

“I most certainly did not. I would not kidnap my own son.”

“Oh, but you would _clone_ him,” Jason said sneered. “Where is the fucking clone anyway?”

Talia pursed her lips. “I don’t know. He did not answer me when I called for him, nor did two of my other lackeys.”

“Well,” Jason said, “Looks like your little _science project_ went rogue,” he looked around, and they all seemed to realize at the same time that it was eight against one. “And I guess that means we have no reason to be here, so we’ll just be on our way.”

Talia pulled out a gun and stroked it idly. “Oh, but it would be so _nice_ if you were simply… out of the way. League of Shadows, why don’t we show these miscreants what happens to uninvited guests.”

The villains grinned at them and began to advance. The three knew that this was a losing battle, so without missing a beat, Connor grabbed Dick and Jason and shot up the stairs and flew them to the courtyard in a matter of seconds. He dropped them and they started their bikes, taking off just as the horde of villains came into view.

“Red Robin, Superboy, get the hell out of there!” Dick said as he passed the threshold of the Covent.

None of them dared to look back as they sped along, not stopping until they were in Gotham. Once they were, Jason pulled over and Connor landed next to him. A few seconds later, Tim’s car came streaking down the lane and skidded to a halt next to them.

“Damn that was close,” Jason said.

“You can say that again,” Connor agreed.

“Um, guys?” Tim said, getting their attention “Where’s Nightwing?”

Everyone froze, then began looking around frantically. “Shit,” Connor said. “He was with us when we left, but I never saw him get taken.”

Jason was looking at the ground, eyes wide and frantic. He looked as if he was on the verge of a panic attack.

“Hood, are you okay?” Jon asked.

Jason looked up at him, seeming a bit dazed. “I… um… I have to go,” he said, turning to his bike and mounting it.

“Go?” Tim asked, “Go where?”

But Jason just ignored him, speeding away as fast as he could.

“Well, fuck me,” Tim said with a sigh. “Now we’ve got _this_ to deal with.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'd like everyone to take a vote: would you like me to post smut in this work? If so I have some ideas, including a very emotional SuperBat scene, but if you guys don't want to see that, just say so and I'll forgo the smut
> 
> Also, if I get enough comments, I'll post another chapter by tomorrow night!
> 
> Next chapter: find out what happened to Dickie and you'll get some emotional Jason with his lover...


	8. What happened to Dick Grayson and where Jason went

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we discover what happened to Dick Grayson, and what is in store for him. We also get a little emotional Jason with his lover...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So I now have over 30 Kudos, and got a couple more comments. Also I felt that it was unfair that I left this off on a cliffhanger, so enjoy this early chapter!  
> Little note: Roman Sionis (Black Mask) is in this chapter, and he is toootally out of character, but I feel that it is needed in this situation. He probably won't act like he does in this chapter again, but who knows?

Dick groaned. He was vaguely aware that he had been knocked out, which would explain the splitting headache. He slowly opened his eyes and was met with the sight of what looked like an abandoned warehouse.

What is it with villains and abandoned warehouses?

He could hear muffled voices, most likely coming from behind a door across the room. He looked down, seeing that he was in a straight jacket. His legs were tied to a wooden chair as well as a rope around his waist, keeping his movements limited. His mind immediately began to go through different ways he could escape, but then he realized that whoever had kidnapped him was most likely going to be Heretic… and Heretic knew where Damian was… so if he just stayed here long enough to get some information out of him, when he did escape, or when he got rescued, he would be able to find Damian. The voices steadily grew louder until the door opened. Standing there was Mad Hatter, a strange woman that Dick didn’t recognize, and-holy shit- it was Damian. But… not his Damian. No, this was an older Damian. He must be Heretic, then.

Heretic was glaring at the Hatter menacingly and opened his mouth, probably to say something threatening, when he happened to glance over at Dick, seeing that he was awake. His face immediately softened, and he walked swiftly over to him. “Oh, my dear Beloved, you are finally conscious,” he said with a gentle smile, reaching out to stroke his cheek, but Dick jerked his head away.

“I am _not_ your Beloved,” he spat at Heretic.

Heretic’s face hardened for a moment before softening again. “I _am_ your Beloved, whether you like it or not,” Dick scoffed at him. “I _am_ Damian, I am just a bit older, and I am more perfect.”

Dick glared at him. “You are _nothing_ like him! You are _not_ more perfect, You’re just a cheap knockoff.”

Heretic scowled. “We’ll see how long you hold on to that mentality,” he said as he stood up. “Hatter! It is time,” he grabbed the front of the Hatter’s jacket “And know that if you mess up or if I am disappointed with the results, I will not kill you, but you will wish that I had.”

He let go and motioned for the woman to follow him out of the room. The Hatter had brought what looked like a suitcase with him, which he set down and pressed a button. The suitcase opened into a machine with a chair and several monitors and what looked like keyboards around it. The hatter took two electrodes coming out of the machine and placed one on each of his temples. “If it makes you feel any better,” the Hatter said, “I’m not exactly comfortable with this situation either.”

“Well then why the hell are you doing it?” Dick asked as the Hatter went to take a seat.

“Well, you see, that _lunatic_ is quite… _skilled_ when it comes to torture, so I would rather not anger him by defying his wishes,” he settled into the seat and several wires came out of his hat to attach to the machine. He placed his hands over the keyboards. “Now, you may feel a slight pinch.”

“What are you going to-“ Then a searing pain erupted in Dick’s head. He screamed , and then everything went dark.

Jason felt numb. He supposed it felt better than having a meltdown, but it still felt like shit. He rode his bike up to a gate in front of a beautiful mansion. He was stopped by several men carrying machine guns with full body armor. Jason sighed. He really didn’t feel like doing this right now.

One of the men walked up to him, making a point to aim the gun at him in warning. “What’s your business here?” He asked gruffly.

“I need to see your boss,” Jason said disinterestedly.

“Do you have an appointment?” the man sneered.

Jason put up the kickstand and stood up, squaring up to the man. “I don’t need an appointment, tough guy,” he looked down at the gun “And I’d point that thing somewhere else if I were you. I don’t think your boss would appreciate you pointing a gun at me.”

“You shouldn’t talk to one of the High Generals like that,” the man said proudly, holding his head high.

Jason smirked. “I’m guessing that’s a new development,” he leaned in close “Just so you know, the higher up you are, the more likely it is that you’ll get killed,” he looked the man up and down “I give you one week before you’re at the bottom of the Gotham River.

The man poked Jason’s chest. “Look here, you brat, you have no idea who-“

“ _MARCUS_!” a voice shouted. They both looked in the direction the voice had come from. Walking towards them was a man in a pristine black suit. “Hood, it’s good to see you.”

“Likewise, Mason.”

“So sorry about this. Marcus is fairly new. I promise that I’ll be talking to the boss about this,” The man signaled for the gates to be opened. “For now, please go in and make yourself comfortable. The boss is in a meeting right now, but I’ll tell him you’re here.”

Jason gave him a nod before getting back on his ride and riding it to the front of the mansion, where a valet came to park his bike for him. He entered the building and got into an elevator where he pressed the button for the top floor.

As the elevator rose, Jason took a moment to mull over what had happened. Then he paused. “What am I doing _here_?” He said to himself, shaking his head. “Out of _all_ the places I could have gone…” the elevator dinged, and the doors opened to a short hallway with two large men guarding a door at the end. He approached them and they nodded, opening the door for him. He stepped in and took in the lavish lounge, done up in white, black and gold. He walked over to an oversized black leather sofa and fell back heavily onto it. He put his head in his hands and simply sat there for god knows how long.

“Well now, isn’t this a surprise?” A voice called out, startling Jason.

Jason put his head up to look at the man. He looked just as formal as he always did. Crisp black suit with a black dress shirt and tie, shining black shoes, and to match the rest of the outfit, the signature black mask adorning his face.

Roman Sionis.

“Hey, Roman,” Jason said, trying to fake a cocky smile to hide his pain.

Roman saw right through him in that way that he somehow always managed to. “Jason, what happened to you?” He asked as he approached the couch.

Jason furrowed his brow, trying to figure out if he should tell Roman or not, and if he did, how he was going to say it. “I… well… it’s complicated,” he eventually said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Roman put a hand on his knee. “Jason, whatever it is, you can tell me,” he said almost… gently, which surprised the hell out of Jason. The comforting words were apparently the final blow to his façade as his vision became blurry from tears, and soon he was outright sobbing, putting his head in his hands. Once he was in one of these moods, it was almost impossible to break him out of it.

He felt so ashamed. Not only was he crying, but he was crying in front of _Roman_ of all people! He must think he was so weak, and Roman did _not_ tolerate weak people. He wouldn’t be surprised if Roman called security to kick him out and tell him to never come back. But instead, he felt arms wrap around him. It shocked Jason so much, that for a moment he stopped crying, only for a moment, however, before he began sobbing harder than ever. Roman, a cold, heartless mob boss, the Black Mask, who was a _villain_ , was _comforting_ him with a _hug_. For a moment he wasn’t sure how to react, but he eventually decided to take advantage of this rare moment and wrapped his arms around Roman’s neck, burying his face in his shoulder.

Roman rubbed his back soothingly. “Whatever happened, Red, I will help you fix it,” Jason was once again taken aback. “Just tell me what happened and how I can help, and I promise that I will make this right.”

Jason attempted to calm down so that he could speak. “W-we were f-fighting the Sist-ters of P-perpetual Gra-ace, a-and we had-d to r-run, but Nigh-ghtw-wing got l-left behind,” Jason broke down again “I-it’s m-my f-fault! I should’ve r-realized h-he was-sn’’t th-there!”

Roman sighed. “Jason, I doubt that this is your fault. He’s not your responsibility-“

“But I sh-should’ve known!” Jason all but shouted. “I _kn-new_ Heretic h-had his eye o-on h-him! I should-d’ve _kno-own_ that h-he’d try a-and ma-ake a move! I t-told Nightwing that I would _protect_ him! And then I fucked up! He got captured on _my_ watch!” Jason had stopped crying. At this point he was more angry than upset. He opened his mouth to continue, but Roman had had enough.

“Jason!” He said, grabbing his face, “You hold _no_ responsibility over that boy’s life. Now, why don’t you stop moping so that we can figure this out now and fix this?” Jason stared at him with wide eyes and nodded. “Alright. Now, let’s go over what we know and what we need to find out,” Roman stood up and headed towards his desk.

“Roman?” Jason said hesitantly. “Why… why are you helping me?”

Roman raised a brow at him. “Do you not _want_ my help?” he asked.

“I didn’t say that,” Jason said quickly.

“Then does it _matter_ what my motives are?” Roman asked. Jason shook his head, though he obviously wasn’t satisfied with the answer. Roman sighed. “I take care of what’s mine, Jason,” he said simply.

Jason was stunned. Sometimes it almost felt like Roman cared about him. Like they could be actual lovers. But that was crazy… wasn’t it?

Roman sat down at his desk and motioned for Jason to join him. “Now, tell me everything that happened, and we will work out what to do next.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that! I feel like Jason just needed a hug. I'll bring them up again, but TimmyJayBird is the one who introduced me to the ship of Red Hood/Black Mask and now I am toootally obsessed with it. Check them out, seriously.   
> As always, comments are very much appreciated, and if you leave one, I will reply. I want your feedback to get suggestions on what should happen next!  
> Thank you LiaStridder and CatBat82 for your votes on the smut and thank you to everyone who has kept up with the story, commented, or left kudos.  
> Next chapter we'll find out what actually happened to Dami...  
> If I get enough feedback then I may post early again.


	9. Whatever happened to Damian?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we find out where Damian went, and how he's doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a short chapter, because I realize that I haven't touched on the subject of Damian and his well being much. I mean, he hasn't even been seen since the first chapter.  
> Enjoy!

Talia was pacing back and forth in front of the League of Shadows. They were all a bit nervous. _No one_ liked Talia when she was mad, and at the moment she was absolutely _fuming_. She stopped pacing and glared at them all. “If the BatBrats are right, then my son should be here somewhere. I want him _found_ in the next ten minutes, and if he is not,” she pulled out a dagger and began idly playing with it “Well, let’s just say you will _not_ enjoy the consequences,” everyone stood frozen “Well? What are you waiting for? _GO_!” she shouted, and they scattered to go look for Damian.

“She’s so mean…” Firefly mumbled.

They all searched every individual tower and room, but Damian was no where to be found. Calculator was in Heretic’s room with Tusk and Electrocutioner. Electrocutioner sighed. “This is ridiculous!” He said as he kicked a rock on the floor.

“Oh, shut up, Electrocutioner,” Calculator said “Let’s just find the brat before Talia puts our heads in a bag.”

“Electrocutioner is right,” Tusk spoke up, “What if the boy’s not even here anymore?” he leaned back against a wall. There was a soft clicking sound, and the wall that Tusk had been leaning on began to slide away, causing him to fall backwards. Behind the wall was a little room, just barely three feet wide.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Calculator said.

“Sneaky shit had a secret room,” Firefly stated. “And look who’s in it.”

They all grinned as they gazed at Damian’s unconscious form.

Tusk grabbed him and threw him over his shoulder. They others were grinning triumphantly as they marched through the halls to bring Talia their prize. Talia was sharpening one of her throwing knives when they walked in. She glanced up at them and did a double take as she caught sight of Damian hanging over Tusk’s shoulder. For a split second, she had an expression of relief that made her almost look human, but only for a second before the cold hard mask was back on.

She gestured to a chair in the middle of the room. “Put him there,” she said. Tusk did as she asked, dropping him less than gently onto the chair. Talia narrowed her eyes at him, causing him to shrink back in fright. He may have been twice as tall as her, and three times as strong, but he was well aware that she could take him down without breaking a sweat.

Talia approached her son and leaned down to look at his face. She brought a hand up to his face and stroked his cheek gently before slapping him hard. He opened his eyes looking dazed. “Damian,” Talia said gently. Well, gently for _her_ at least. He didn’t respond. “Damian,” She said more firmly, but he still simply stared off into space. “ _Damian!”_ she shouted. His eyes slowly drifted towards her and stared at her blankly. She snapped her fingers in front of his face, but he simply blinked at her. She sighed in exasperation. “Well, it seems that that _degenerate_ has rendered my son invalid,” Tusk and Electrocutioner looked at her in confusion. She pinched the bridge of her nose “Heretic brain fucked my son, idiots.”

“Ooh,” they said in unison.

Talia narrowed her eyes as she studied her son. “Calculator,” she barked after a moment.

“Yes?” he said nervously.

“Do you think you could build a replica of the Hatter’s brainwashing machine?”

“I-I’m not sure,” Talia turned threatening eyes on him. “W-well, I’m sure that I could build the _machine_ , but psychology isn’t exactly my area of expertise… so I’m not sure if I could work it or not.”

Talia walked towards him slowly, fingering a rather threatening looking dagger on her belt. “You are a certified genius, correct?”

Calculator gulped. “Well, in _some_ areas, but I-“

Talia walked into his personal space and pulled out her dagger, running the flat side along his cheek. “Well, I am sure that you can figure _something_ out with that big brain of yours.”

“Ah… y-yes, of course, Ms. Al Ghul,” he said, visibly sweating.

Talia dropped the knife from his face. “Good. I expect the machine to be up and running by midnight.”

Calculator sputtered “M-midnight? I’ll never be able to have-“ Talia gave him a look sharper than her knives. “O-of course, it will be done by midnight.”

Talia nodded and left the room. When she was gone, Tusk and Electrocutioner exhaled in relief. “Man, you are _sooo_ screwed,” Electrocutioner said.

“Oh, shut up,” Calculator snapped. “I expect both of you to assist me with this, or I’ll tell Talia that you were distracting me from my work.”

The two groaned and begrudgingly went to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I know things look bad, and at the moment they are, but I can promise you now that everyone is going to be alright in the end, it's just gonna take some time to get there.  
> Comments are appreciated!  
> Also, take a vote: do you want Superbat or RedMask smut first, because I have plans for both  
> Shoutout to LinaUzumaki for the comment on RedMask


	10. We Only See Each Other At Weddings And Funerals... And Kidnappings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim has to go and break the news to Bruce about what's happened to Dick. The SuperBoys come along for moral support, and Alfred is a fucking legend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I got done with this chapter early, so I'm gonna move the story along. This chapter is honestly just an excuse to show off how fucking amazing Alfred is.  
> I think I should explain my writing process for this, cause it's kinda long and unnecessary. So, first I actually speak out the dialog to myself, which is really weird, I know, then I write it down on paper as a rough draft, so I have about a chapter and a half stored up right now, then I put it into word and make the necessary changes, and finally, I put it here!  
> It's a long process, but it gets the job done  
> Enjoy!

Tim was in his car with Connor and Jon, heading towards the Wayne Manor. Tim had realized about a minute after Jason had left that someone was going to have to tell Batman what had happened, and since Dick and Damian were gone and Jason had darted out ASAP, it was left to Tim. Connor and Jon had insisted that they go with him, saying that it was just as much of their fault as it was his, and if Tim had to face the Bat, they should have to as well. While Tim was grateful for this, it made for a very awkward drive. None of them knew what to say, so they had all been silent as they thought of the difficult conversation again. Tim was pretty sure that Jon had been crying at some point.

Once they had parked the car in the Manor’s garage, they all sat there for a few moments in silence, dreading the conversation to come. Finally, Tim decided to get it over with. “Well,” he said as he unbuckled his seatbelt, “let’s get this over with, shall we?” So, they all got out of the car and headed inside.

Tim was leading them through the house, because while they had both been there before, it was still fucking massive and a bit hard to navigate. They turned down a few hallways and were just starting up a flight of stairs when a voice stopped them.

“Master Tim?” Alfred said, poking his head out of a door. “And Masters Connor and Jon as well,” he said in surprise.

“Hey, Alfred,” Tim said awkwardly. He had been dreading the conversation with Alfred just as much as the conversation with Bruce. After all, Alfred had always loved them all just as much, if not more, than Bruce did.

“How did your mission go? Where are the other boys?”

Tim winced visibly, and Alfred’s face fell. “We, um… well, we weren’t able to get Damian…”  
“And Masters Dick and Jason?”

“Jason’s fine, he just… had to go somewhere, and Dick…” Tim looked away. He could, and _had_ , looked Darkseid straight in the eye without flinching, but in this moment, he just couldn’t bring himself to look at Alfred.

“Please say that Master Dick isn’t gone,” Alfred said almost desperately.

“Well, he’s not dead,” Jon said as cheerily as he could muster. Oh, Jon, always trying to find the positive of any situation, no matter how bleak.

Tim glanced briefly at Alfred and saw that he was covering his face. God, Tim hoped he wasn’t crying. He never knew how to act when Alfred cried. It was like seeing your father cry. Alfred took out a handkerchief and dabbed at his eyes, then straightened up. “Well, I am certain that the fault does not fall on any of you, so I expect you all to act like it. Chins up. We will get him back,” God, it was amazing that even when Alfred was overwhelmed, he still knew exactly what they needed to hear, even when they didn’t know it themselves. “Now, Masters Bruce and Clark are both in the parlor. I assume you will want to talk to them. While you do, I will go and prepare some snacks for you,” Tim opened his mouth “And yes, Master Tim. I recognize that I do not have to, but I am, and you _will_ stay and eat them. You are getting _far_ too thin, and it has been far too long since any of you came to visit. I want hear what you have all been up to.”

“Alright,” Tim said. Fighting Alfred was pointless. It always had been. “We should get going then.”

And so, they made their way to the impending doom.

When they arrived, they saw Bruce and Clark sitting on a couch in front of a massive flat screen that was playing The Fault in Our Stars. It was obvious that Clark knew they were there, and judging by the how stiff he was, he had probably heard their conversation with Alfred, but Bruce seemed to be engrossed in the movie. Clark nudged him and nodded towards the three of them. He looked to them for a split second before turning back around, the three just catching a glimpse of the tears on his face. If this had been any other time, Tim would have made a sassy comment about the Big Bad Bat crying over the movie, but now was not the time.

“What’re you three doing here?” Bruce asked as he dried off his face with his sleeve. They all stood in silence. Bruce looked at them curiously. “You look like someone’s died,” he paused “ _Did_ someone die?”

“No one’s _died_ ,” Tim started “But…”

“What?” Bruce asked impatiently.

“Did… did Dick happen to mention where we went tonight?” Tim asked cautiously.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “No…”

“Well, we found out where Damian was, and-“

“ _What_?!” Bruce cut him off. “When?!”

“Yesterday.”

“And you didn’t _tell_ me?!” Bruce said angrily.

“Well, no offense, Bruce, but you haven’t exactly been in the right shape to handle news like that, seeing as you’ve been more drunk than Jason gets on New Year’s,” Tim said. He was trying to be careful, but he was the sass master, and Bruce was starting to tick him off. Bruce simply scowled at him, unable to come up with a comeback. “Anyway, we went to go check it out, but we couldn’t find Damian, and…” Tim trailed off.

“And?” Bruce asked, irritation flowing off him in waves.

“Well, Dick… Dick didn’t make it out.”

There was a dead silence for a solid minute. Then, Bruce stood up. “I think I need to be alone for a moment,” he said and left the room. There was another moment of silence between the remaining four, becoming more and more awkward by the second. Luckily, Alfred came to their rescue. “Good, you’re all here. There is beef bourguignon, Rhubarb Pie, Doughnuts, and a Devil’s food cake waiting in the kitchen for you.”

“Thanks, Alfred,” Jon said as they all followed him to the kitchen.

“It is my pleasure, Master Jon,” Alfred said with a short bow. “Now, I expect you all to tell me what you’ve been up to as of late.”

Tim knew that Alfred was trying to get their minds off of what had just happened, and he was extremely grateful. As they entered the kitchen, their mouths started to water from the smell of the delicious food, making them all rush to the table. “Dig in.” Alfred said as they took their seats.

And for a moment, the world seemed at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked that! I reeeaaally wanted to put something in about Bruce crying at an emotional movie, I was originally going to go with Old Yeller, but I liked the idea of fault in our stars more. Also, if you're wondering about the weird combination of food that Alfred prepared, they are actually all of their favorite foods! Connor loves Rhubarb Pie, Superman Loves beef bourguignon, TIm loves Doughnuts, and I couldn't find what Jon likes, so I just went with cake... cause who doesn't love cake?  
> Next chapter we'll find out what Dick is up to...  
> Chapter after that will be SuperBat smut


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